


Isn't it the Worst?

by FixerRefutation



Series: Ouma Kokichi's Theory of 'Happiness.' [5]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Attempted Murder, Character Study, Gen, Happy, I got nothing so, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sad, Tags Are Hard, listen i made this at 10 so you better shut up and read, revamped, umm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 14:23:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14833952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FixerRefutation/pseuds/FixerRefutation
Summary: After watching his Motive video, Ryoma bumps into Kokichi.





	Isn't it the Worst?

Ryoma arrived at his dorm, and shut the door tight. Taking out the Motive Video he'd gotten from Harukawa, it began to play.

"Alright! Back by popular demand, it's time for the motive video! Who's the most important person in your life?"

 

He sighed. 5 seconds into this and he already regretted his decision. That bear was just so damn annoying.

"And now, without further ado..."

He leaned forward with anticipation, needing to know who on Earth would care for him..

"..this message is for Ryoma Hoshi, the Ultimate Tennis Pro!"

..huh?

The screen was black, with yellow text with the words, "Under Construction" repeating itself on the top and bottom, with a Monokuma wearing a construction hat in the middle. He knew what was happening before the bear said it.

No one cared for him.

He cared for no one.

He blocked out Monokuma's repeated, mocking sorry, sorry, sorry! as he reached over, stopped the video, and walked outside.

He needed some fresh air.

 

*

 

Ryoma casually strolled along the pathways of the school, halfheartedly kicking at rocks and staring at the ground.

Meandering with no purpose or intent to go anywhere, he delved into his thoughts. It didn't matter who killed him, why they killed him, or even when. He could be killed right now and not give a damn.

His thoughts drifted over to the casino earlier in the day, with Saihara, Iruma, Momota, Shinguji, and Ouma, and he smiled.

It was small and soft, but most definitely there.

He walked along the path, going nowhere in particular.

On his way to who-knows-where, he bumped straight into someone approximately three feet taller than him.

“Oh, Hoshi-san, I was just looking for you.”

He stared up at her, eyes unblinking, and lowered his hat.

“..yeah, what's going on?”

She looked to him with an emotion he couldn’t quite describe, but one was the most prominent.

Guilt.

He knew that emotion all too well. It was eating him through during those flashing reds and blues and the fearful eyes and the sticky crimson red almost shining pink in the light and the knowledge that his life was gone and done for all by his own hands and the anger and the horrible _horrible guilt_ eating him alive and the regret-

 

Oh, the regret.

 

The regret of murdering countless human beings, repeating the same actions, putting his talent to use in the worst way possible.

  
And oh, that motive video. What happened to his cat? His Russian Blue pet, the only one that he cared for and the only one he was terrified of losing.

..She...forgot him, he was sure. If it wasn’t that..

Well, he sure as hell wasn’t going to think about that possibility. A cat as my only reason for living, he mused.

What a motive.

 

“Can you meet with me later on, in your lab? I would like to discuss the motive videos.”

  
“..yeah, sure. It would be uncool of me to not listen to a lady.”

“..thank you.”

She.

Her.

Kirumi Tojo.

She was arguably one of the people that he most respected out of everyone. She had an intense will to live, and was stubborn to the point where it was near impossible to sway her. She was what he aspired to be.

Someone with a will to survive.

Someone with the will to see things through to the end.

Someone he could never be.

Tension left her shoulders as she gave him a hesitant bow, and she promptly walked away. She knew he knew.

She knew he knew that she was going to murder him. How, he didn’t know, and he didn’t really care.

Really, now, all he had left in life was the breath in his lungs and the beat of his heart.

That would stop.

 

Very soon.

 

Well, he couldn’t say he was excited to see his family again.

 

Sighing, and sucking on his candy, he slowly made his way over to his execution.

  
Then someone rammed into him.  They stumbled back, laughing.

“..Oh, hellooo, Hoshi-channn!” The kid waved his arms about, all energy and little to no muscle. “Sorrry, I didn’t see you there, ‘cause you were so short.”

“..Go away, Ouma.”

“Aww, don’t be such a bore, Hoshi-chan~!”

“..What are you even doing, at this time of night?”

“Well… I was being lectured by mom-chan..”

“..really.”

“Yup!”

Pulling his hat over his head, he turned around. “..You still got a ways to go before you can talk to me, Ouma.” And before he knows it, his hat was off his head. He's taken by surprise for half a second, then he slowly looks over to Ouma.

“..are you serious?”

  
Ouma nodded his head cheerfully, and stuck the beanie on his head instead. “If this is what it takes for you to stop moping, then let’s play a game! I run, and you try to catch me!”

Tired and impatient to walk to his death, he decides to just jump the kid and be done with it. Unfortunately, Ouma catches on to his plan almost immediately, and dashes off, hand on his head to keep the beanie on, and gone in an instant.

“Damnit..” he grumbles, and puts his tennis skills to work.

 

Ouma narrowly dodges a flurry of tennis balls, some scraping his skin while others cause his sleeves to rip and tear, and he laughs, clearly having the time of his life. Hoshi would never admit it, but this was kinda fun, if not mildly annoying and time consuming. He was actually impressed by the kid’s speed; he ran like the police were on his heels. Ouma screams, “Hoshi-chan, are you aiming to become the blackened by murdering me? At least take me out with style!” He huffs and aims again. “I won’t hit any vital spots.”

Even while running, chasing after a boy with endless energy, he can’t help but let out an exhilarated chuckle while he throws the balls up in the air, and carefully attacks with precision, not enough to kill, but just enough to whoosh past Ouma’s ears and shirt.

They reach a open space, running in circles, both attempting a specific goal, laughing and joking and teasing until Ouma drops like a ragdoll. Like a puppet with its strings cut. For a moment, Hoshi stops, mind consumed by endless possibilities and instances, like one in which the kid was poisoned, another where it was him, he was the blackened and oh go d he never wanted this _he was supposed to die not anyone else_   not now not _ever_ all the dead littering the floor blood red- or was it pink? - shining in the lights and him him him in the middle of it all frozen so so so frozen- 

He realizes he's on his knees. Calms his racing heartbeat, sets down his tennis balls.

 Without hesitance, he sprints straight over to Ouma, and checks for his pulse.

  
It’s there.

 

Then he checks his forehead.

 

‘S fine, if not pretty sweaty.

 

He feels a sudden stab of all-too-familiar guilt. Ouma had him chase him around just to take him away from those dark thoughts. because of him.

because of him.

If Hoshi just _didn’t exist_ -

 a little laugh fills the air. It's the same, unique laugh that always sounded vaguely like a horse.

“..whoooops..” Ouma suddenly speaks up, having regained consciousness for a while. “G..guess I messed up again. Sorry, Hoshi-chan..”

 

There’s silence for a while, and when Hoshi speaks, it’s low and quiet, a dangerous whisper. “..what the actual _fuck,_ Ouma.” Ouma looks at him through unfocused eyes, and he can just _feel_ the kid’s bony ribs at this point.

 

“I thought you’d be out here...i know you didn’t have a reason for living. And so I..thought I could sway you away from that path. “  _Not another Amami-chan and Akamatsu-chan, no not again, never again._

He doesn’t know what to say.

 

“..after all, I’ve got no one who cares about me, too. Not here, not in the..outside world.” After a few moments, Ouma’s eyes sharpened in what looked like alarm, as if he hadn’t intended to say so much. He sat up and smiled disarmingly, a smile that said, “forget what you just heard”; but it was more pleading than threatening. “Or that could be a lie~!”

Ryoma looks at Kokichi, and assesses the boy one more time, through a new perspective.

Eye bags. He evidently hadn’t slept much, but his youthful exterior was a benefit to keeping attention away from him. Those eye bags could easily be explained away as eyeliner.

Bony ribs. Not so easily explained away, but barely noticeable due to the straightjacket-like shirt on the kid. It hung, only a bit loose, around his hips. Only a truly observant eye taking a close look could infer such a thing. Was the kid not eating?

A bony wrist. Not much, but considering the earlier mentioned bony ribs, he could make a guess that the kid wasn’t taking much care of himself. He bet that if he could see the kid’s legs, they would would be bony and far below the average for a teenage boy.

Height. Not much to go off of, considering how tall Hoshi was compared to Ouma. But he could still tell that the kid was pretty far below his average height class. Not as far as Hoshi, who still ate and drank and exercised and so thankfully had a healthy body, but Ouma was one of the farthest away from ‘health.’ His skin was so pale he could've been mistaken as an introvert. Heck, he was surprised that the kid was so filled with energy. Maybe it was all those Pantas he drank?

Expressions. Expressions on Ouma’s face were often more..noticeable than the rest of his body. After all, the kid had so many over-the-top expressions and spoke so unpredictably that it was pretty damn hard to keep attention focused on anywhere but the face. Not to mention the multiple scenarios that the kid would think up, enough to make Miu sweat and enough to make the most stoic people here barely able to tolerate him or his presence.

He sighed.

“Ouma.. have you been eating lately?”

“..”

“Ouma..”

  
“..Don’t you have somewhere to go, Hoshi-chan?” Ouma’s voice sounded forlorn and resigned.

  
“I..do. ..Do you wanna come with?” He wonders, vaguely, why he said that. Maybe it was his conscience. Maybe it was loneliness or some other, explainable thing. But he wanted to keep at least one living person with him, at least one person who would give a shit if he was alive or not.

“..okay.” For that moment, Hoshi could step back and see the slightest trace of a timid kid, and he grasped at Ouma’s hand, opting to quietly give him at least a few traces of warmth from his cold hands. Ouma’s soft hand curled around his own.

  
_Are you mad?_

_I’m not mad._

They walked to the Tennis Pro’s lab together.

(“You know..” Ouma whispers, as if he was talking to the night and not Hoshi. _“..If you die, I’ll miss you.”_ )

 

*

 

Ryoma gestured Ouma to stay outside the lab in case things got rough; he had no doubt in his mind that Tojo would try to kill him tonight, and if that happened, he didn’t want Ouma to see that. He was fine with this. If Tojo had a strong motive to murder him, so be it. His life was forfeit from the start. (He couldn’t help the voice in hiss mind, begging him to just stop, please) He opened the door. Kokichi stayed out of Kirumi’s line of sight.

 

Start, the death march.

 

Kirumi turned to him, wooden pole in hand.

 

“Hey,” He smiles at her halfheartedly.

 

“Hello.” Always prim and proper, not a hair out of place. But now, she looked jumpy, as if she was itching to do something.

 

..or rather, kill something.

 

 _(You ~~don’t~~ want to die.) _ He listened as she explained and exploited her motive, tone and voice asking for forgiveness.

 

 _(You ~~don’t~~ want to die.) _ He looks at her and nods, applauding her will to live and telling her that he would start picking up his tennis balls, littered around the court.

 

 _(YOU ~~DON’T~~ WANT TO DIE.) _ He’s ready to feel the pole hit him, ready to embrace his death and see his family-

 

 **_(YOU DON’T WANT TO DIE.)_ ** He can feel the whoosh of the wooden pole, and is ready to feel the sharp pain, and blackout-

 

“Wait!” A voice so loud and so utterly desperate echoed through the lab. It stopped Kirumi in her movements entirely, and she turned her head in panic.  
Kokichi Ouma stood alone, white clothes contrasting the darkness surrounding it, hand out, as if daring Kirumi to come closer.

“If you murder Hoshi-chan, _mom_ , then I’ll know exactly who the culprit is during the class trial, isn’t that right?” His posture was confident, tone condescending.

But Hoshi noticed the slight trembling.

Ouma was scared for his life.

Ouma _didn’t want to die_.

Hoshi **didn’t want to die.**

Kirumi stared at Ouma.

He stared back.

She said, “..Ouma, shouldn’t you be asleep by now?”

Ouma gave a start. “..Huh?”

She smiled. “You should be asleep by now.”

Was she..? 

“It would be a pity if you didn’t have an alibi by the time Ryoma Hoshi was murdered, wouldn’t it?”

She was.

Ouma’s voice in turn was calm. “You’re going to try and frame me, aren’t you?”

She turned away from him and walked slowly to Ouma. “It’s for my most precious person.”

  
“Who’s that? Some crazy murdering psychopath with another personality?”

“...No.”

“It’s for the nation of Japan itself.”

She stopped just in front of Kokichi.

“Either way, I’ll just find a way to shut both of you up. After all, who would believe a liar?” She raised her wooden pole.

He froze.

Hoshi grabbed her arm. He hissed, “This is in between you and me. Don’t bring anybody into this.” She froze, stuck, and she tried to pry her arm out of his unyielding grip.

Unsuccessful.

Kokichi unfroze, and moved to the Ultimate Prisoner’s Lab. He grabbed the handcuffs hanging from the wall, and proceeded to handcuff Kirumi.

“Never expected to be on _this_ side of the law, but oh well..”, he muttered.

“..sorry, Kirumi.”, Hoshi muttered.

She sagged in defeat. “I..it’s okay. I wonder why, though.”

  
“Hmm?”

  
“..how could I not remember something so important to me?”

“..mm, maybe Monokuma just..lied to you.”

  
“..even so..”

 

*

 

Kokichi and Ryoma took Kirumi to her room and took her key. Kokichi gave a flippant shrug, saying that in the morning, they’ll let her out. (In the meantime, Ryoma carried heavy baggage to place in front of her room.) They walked leisurely back to the Entomologist’s lab, and relaxed in the screams of the innocent.

 

*Murder averted-;̸͚̘̜͖*F̦̲͓͉͞i̢̫̩͓̬l̘̪̗̻͙͈e͇̤̱s͞;̖̝̹̲̦̥͖̕ ̲͖̺̘͉̹R̻̮̭̩̹̤͖͞y̸͓̗͎o̗̩͍͇̦͓͞ͅm̟̗͜a̻_̭̺̪͓ͅH̘̫̟͕os̤h̖̙̝i͖͇̬͓̬͎.̛̝̭̭e̯͍̦̬x̙s̻̥̳͖̭d̘͘ę̤͎̙̗͚̬̬f;̞̬̣͕̗̲̩͢;̶;̞̼̤͕̥̱̞F̱̰̮̲̣il̨͉̝̦e̡̝͉̗̳s̰̬͙͕͇;̨͈̳̤̗͇Ķ͚̥̟͙i̶r͓̭̰̬̻͕ͅu̬̱̠͠m̜i̗̦͕̯͇͟_̪̳̪͟T̺͙̪͜o͕̦j͇̣̘͚̳̜o̱̬̻̠.͙e҉̟͚̪̫̤͓̦x̫̺͎e̠͚̭.͇̲̭̳̕  
͚͎̗͜p͖̯ͅi̷̖͔͚̩ͅe̡c͏̞̹ȩ̳ǫ̲̙̩f̡g̬̻l̴̮̜o̹̻v͍̻e̵͇̠ͅt̡̟͙̭̞̙h̤o͔͍͕̱̩̦̙u͏̘̭͇̬̫͓͈gh̭̯͓̗͝t̼t̫͔r̟̰̯̬̺͢a̵̙̜͇͉̜̦s͏̬̬ͅh͎s̢h̲͡u͜i̢̺̹c̘̭̗͡h̥̦̪̩̥i̞͍ḵ͎̫͘o̼̰k͏͈̤͉i̲c͖̳̯͚h̵̬̯̝͉i̦͈̳̼k̪͙̪͇͔͚o̺̹̼̠̱k҉̬̼ic̴͖h͍͓͙͢i̪̳̪̤̭̪̕a͍̮v͏͎̖̮͓̲e͢r͔͚͎͔̤ṱ̥̮̗̮̹͙o͉̟̱̙̝f̸f̖͈̺̲͓͉l̟̝̝i̟͙̲n̶e̠͎̞̲̻ḵ̗̺o̭̠k̭̦i̠̖c̷̯͍̼̪̺h̙͙̱͓͠i̶͖͍͎̫̺̞ͅ.̶͚̳̜͙e̲̞͓̪x͉̭e̱̕o̢̺f͕̬͈̻̱͝f̻͔̞͔s͔͉͓͕̟͠c̬͙ṟ̙͇ͅi҉̙̙̰̝̗p̖̼̖̻̲͔t̪͇̩͇͡ͅe͚͇̻̞i͍̻̥̣̲̟̪n̡̙̘n̵̬̭͚̮e̷̩̰̘̺̝͕rt̠̻͘u̕b̼̠e̹̣r͓̳̫̳̦̖̜͟e̠̰͈d̤͙̘̪̤͎i͙c̬͝u̜͇͉̬̭l̷͎̘o͈̟ṵ̢̦s̪i̸̠n̨͍̺̭͉͙̘̻n̷̠͎͖ḍ̢͓̪̙̮ę̭͓̬̣r͖͟t̸̹̘̳͖̖̰̠u͔̤bͅe̺̫̩̰͇̩d̘͍̝͍̝͞e͢a̼̥ͅd̗̮̩̙̟̝̰͠c̣͈o̟͇̮̺̤̱̠r̦͉̤͉p̴̣̲s̠̮̝̝̣̘e͈̘̻̦͙̩̝͡r͚̗͚͟o̰͙̫̘p̘̖̟e̥͉̣s̶͚̠̝̹̥͎c̼͖̫̰̱̜rͅa̭̜̖̺͟tc̛̳h̝͇͕̖͠s̯̹͓c̺̻̳̦̼r͜a͘t̩̣c̠̣̠hr̻̕ic̩ͅk̤̦̤͎̫̩͢d̜͉͈r̰̱̮o̩̼̖w̠͚͓̤͎̥n̳d̦̺͉̖e͚̖̟a͏̻̜d̗̱͠n̝̞͚̮̤͎̻͡ọ̥͖͍̯̳̲td̲͉̣̳̲͉ea̵͓̙̹̺͍̰d҉͔wo̭͙̼̼͡o̲̬̰̟͓͎̰͢d͉e̸n̸͎̥͚̭͓p͙͚̻̖͉͘o͇̬͖̗̙̘l͈̲̪͕͓̞͙e̷̙̞s͖̫̩m̝a̡̪̯̪͓̹͖c̭͙͘kd̰̹ọw̹̺ṋ̥̠̞h͙̭̟͕͍a̸n͕̟̻̺͠d̯̺͈̥̼̞͢c̪͕ṳ̻͓͓f͕͔͉̱͡ͅf̬͕͕͖͙̥n̯̜̱̯͕̩͝o̶̪̝̳k͇̥̮ͅo̫̠͜k̴i̷̜̳͕̞c͖͇̹̞̠ͅh̭̕i͔̜̘̘̟.̤̙̟͖͘e̛͇̗̬͉̤̯͎x͉̟̞͓̗e̴̦̥̱̻ͅa̲̬̺̟͢c̡̪̠̤̥̱̼e̺̫͢r͏̪̳t͇̱̖̹̱̻̳f̭̫̰̖i̴̜͍̪̻̲̺̮ļ͈̻e̥̠͚̜͎̙s͙͕̫d͍͙̕e̝͕l̲̺̼̖͞e̵̯̝̗̘͙t̲̤̝̖̳̗͙e̜̭͕̱̬̬͇_͕͇͓̮̜f̵̤͇͖͉̰i̩͖̮͓̦l̘̝̱̻̹͝ͅe̬͖̹̟͘s̲͓̦̟̹͔͘ͅg̻̲̗l̡̤̼̭͍̦̜͚a̱̼̞̫̼̥s̞s̶̼̺̺͚͙̤p̳̗a̴̜̥͉n̵͈͍e̘̥͚ṃ̲̮̰͕̖ag͍̙̟i̧̩c͔̮͔̦̟̭s̯̬̼h̫͎̗̫̤̘͠o̖̣̳̟̟̣̠͟w̲͍͓͇͎̠̘h̰̟i̪͕̦̹ͅmi͙̹̞k҉͉͙͓o̢-̸̜̳̝̭y̝̺̯͘u̬͉͚̙͝m̦̞̮͓͘e͜n̬o̡.̧̙s͙u̙̣r̶v̳i͚v̨̮̩̟̣̫̱͎o̺̺͙͟r̪̼̮͚͡t̺̩̺̖̰̠̘ẹ͈̤n̗̤͚̮k̥̫͈͍o̥̭̝̱̦-̡̦̭̟c̞̯͍̥͇̳̪h̩a̺̞̬̣b̨̭̺̤a̞̠s͡h̠͙͍̝͖͕i͈̰͉̱̖͢r̰̲͉̝̪̤̭a̡̹.͙̺̻̲̮̞͈v̷͙̻̥̰͈i̬c̪͙̭̕t͖̹͘i̘̖̫̪mp̴̝i̸͚r̩̠͓͔̖a̞̯͔̣̗̤̥͢h̹͖̯a̸̝̜̬̟͇n̲͕a͖͈̘̜̯̲s̘͖̙͕e̡a̸̲͓t̟̗e͎͙͍̰a̰t̷̜̱̫̩̝̖̙g̙̥̻͎̯̰o̝̝̤̮̞͞b̘̩̰̣̖͇̠͞b̸̥l̫e̷̖͉͎̭g͉̪͟o̳̜͈̝̖̘n̛̯̟̺̘̣̱e̥̰̣̯̼-̯͠n̢͕̲̻̝on̟͇̳ͅo̠̙͕͚̙̯ͅn͔̭͓̫̺͈o͙͔͜n̯

*Murder Failed.*

 

*Execution Failed.*

Restart_cn_^^vv>><<ababifaipodsfjsorryijklf

 

*Chapter Three*

Korekiyo-Shinguji_killer_file.    aki            ent   coun       

Angie-yonaga_victim___file.chi    mi    stud              cil  

Tenko-chabaaassiri̷͓͍̭ͮ̄̽̎͒̿́̄̚r̮̖̦̜͔̲͑̽͊̄̊͂ͤ͜͠͝ͅṛ̩͍̣͕̺̪ͧ͂̎r̾̄҉̶̰̟̭̭̘̫̠͇̬͘a̞͓̖͖ͭ̈ͥ̓͠h̠͕̳̗̲͖́̆ͥͣ̂ͬͅͅs̶̮̫̹̪̟͊a͖̙͎̙͓̝̜̘̐̋̊͟_file. nana         neo>?

**Author's Note:**

> Kokichi: So..
> 
> Ryoma: hmm?
> 
> Kokichi: Are we like, friends now, Hoshi-chan?
> 
> Tenko: HIMIKKKOOOOOOO-!
> 
> Ryoma: Sure, why not.
> 
> Shuichi: Agh!
> 
> Tsumugi: mmmmfhh bugsh in mmouuphh
> 
> Kokichi: This is fun.
> 
> Gonta: Aww, bugs like Tsumugi!
> 
> Ryoma: nothing better than relaxing behind Gonta.
> 
> Tenko: HIMMMMIIIKKKOOOOOOOO-!
> 
> Kokichi: Great shade, that's for sure  
> Angie: How divine~!


End file.
